Insanity Us2pUK
by Freesarcasm.NOT
Summary: America has decided to send 2p!England to a psychologist and that he will not give up until 2p!England can at least pass as sane... of course that's never going to happen but Alfred can try, and live through the events... right? (I suck at summaries, Us2pUk. Rating may change due to smut and gore, current rating due to America and Authors's potty mouths)
1. Chapter 1

Us2p!Uk

I would like to acknowledge my favourite stalker MissBliss8527, she is a terrific 2p!England rper and helped give me this idea in our rping emails.

America decides to send 2p!England to a psychologist but due to lack of trust accompanies him.

Session 1

America was no stranger to insanity, he dealt with it in the form of politicians daily and he attended world meetings, he could handle insane. Hell America was probably insane himself. What he couldn't handle was psychotic, which 2p!England was the very essence of. The two should technically be soul mates 2p!England loved to cook and America loved to eat. America loved to be the centre of attention and 2p!England loved to lovey-dovey especially with the American. But despite that compatibility America and the 2p had a rather odd relationship filled with… insanity. 2p!England loved to cook _people_ and America didn't like to eat them. 2p!Enland showed affection by cooking _special_ cupcakes and his affection could be a little over the top and possessive and if there was one thing America liked more than England food it was freedom… and non-cannibalism…

America often tried to confront the 2p about his 'problems' but the 2p simply said he had 'odd tastes' which often led to the argument of the line between 'odd tastes' and 'psychotic tendencies'. America was also growing tired of having to warn people not to eat the cupcakes and telling the horror stories of the ingredients or what they did and people not believing him or calling him 'paranoid' and saying that the cupcakes were fine. And then dying because the American was _right_.

So America decided that a psychologist was the best way to go since there was nothing more he could think of to do for 2p!England.

So that is the three paragraph/ 251 word story of how America and 2p!England ended up sitting in the lobby of a psychology centre place… America didn't know what the actual name was so he just called it that. America had decided that he would fill in the paperwork due to the fact that 2p!England would probably draw on it or write about how he was 'perfectly normal' and that America needed the psychology for his paranoia. America took the paper work for submitting someone else as 2p!England sulked about how he didn't need the therapy, after having enough of the 2p whining America just gave him some paper and a pen to draw with. Eventually America nodded, satisfied with his answers,

Patient's full name: Second Player United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland 2P!England Oliver Kirkland

Relation: Lover Friend Acquaintance Son **BROTHER **

Age: a thousand years, give or take, probably give by a lot 25

Reason for therapy: Psychotic tendencies (e.g. violence, odd eating habits, poisoning others), extremely childlike personality, yandere, Imaginary friends (e.g. Flying Chocolate Bunny etc.) Cupcake and knife obsession (not necessarily together but occasionally), overly affectionate, weird eyes, extremely gay fashion sense, talks in a weird sing-song voice, weird vocab, constantly types with '~' on the end.

Family: Twin Brother named Arthur, older Brothers: Alistair, Dylan, Michael, younger brother named Matthew Williams and Alfred F. Jones (me, the person filling out the form) and younger brother called Peter, and a lot more…

Willingness for therapy: NON-EXISTANT

What you are hoping to get from therapy: A sane person…? What else can I get? Oh and a hamburger…

Signature: ((the author is not allowed to display this due to international security))

Yes, those answers were perfectly satisfactory, by America's standard. America looked at the 2p to see what he had been doing. It turns out the Englishman was still drawing. America froze up before quickly snatching the paper away. "Wtf are you drawing man?! That's gross!"

Oliver tilted his head looking at the overly dramatic American "I was just drawing a nice picture of you, love~"

Alfred did an anime nerve throb "'Nice picture' my ass!"

Oliver giggled "It's just there, see~?" he pointed at his picture making Alfred angrier

"A picture of someone with their insides being ripped out and there intestines showing is not a nice picture! It's disturbing!"

Oliver rolled his eyes "Alfie, that is incredibly rude of you to say, I would never draw anything 'disturbing'. You should not lie."

Alfred heaved an exasperated sigh "Fuck you"

Oliver narrowed his blue-pink swirl eyes at Alfred "Don't use dirty words. There are children in here, you probably scared them all with your yelling and bad words"

The children in question we're looking timidly at the Briton whilst a few others asked their parents asked what 'fuck' meant whilst the said parents glared at the two arguing men and aforementioned men glared at each other and the receptionists sat there like awkward turtles.

Alfred pouted childishly before getting out his smart phone to text Arthur two simple words that he had just said to his 2p before turning his phone to silent so that England's spamming him with his rage wouldn't piss everyone off. In an hour's time after the session America would check his phone and see over 250 messages from Arthur.

"You scared the children with your creepy eyebrows and eyes and clothes and voice and overwhelming creepiness that would put the pedobear to shame…" America muttered quietly as he started goggling Avengers fanfiction looking for the one he had started reading earlier.

"Love, I'm bored. Would you like to play a game with me~?" Oliver asked with a smile that would make even Russia shudder.

Of course America was too stupid brave to notice pay attention to the smile. "Yeah sure I love games."

"Okay, love let's play hide and seek~ You hide and I'll seek~"

"Ollie we're in a reception, there is nowhere to hide." Alfred deadpanned

"Mr Kirkland and Mr Jones, the doctor will see you now." The receptionist said, gesturing to the doctor who had walked into the room. He was an older man in his late fifties to early sixties with his black hair greying and beady black eyes squinting slightly out of his too large glasses he looked every part of a psychologist in America's opinion.

Alfred stood up to follow the doctor who according to his name badge his last name was Dr. Grayham (Alfred suppressed a laugh at the irony) Oliver narrowed his eyes at the doctor before being nudged and later dragged by Alfred.

Dr Grayham gestured for the two nations to enter the room. It was simple in its interior with a desk against a wall with a swivel chair and white board on one wall, facing the white board was a sofa for the two blonds to sit on. Alfred sat at one end and Oliver at the other. Oliver tried to move closer to the Alfred and snuggle into him only to be pushed away and for Alfred to move further to the armrest. Oliver retreated back to what had been silently assigned as his side of the couch and the psychologist watched the two in interest.

"Mr Jones, I'd like to ask you about some of what you wrote on the form." Dr Grayham stated as he straightened his glasses. America nodded "What is you relation to Oliver"

2p!England decided to save America the trouble and answer "We're lovers~" and tried to hug the other blond again

Alfred pushed him away again "Just ignore the crazy, we're brothers."

"There is nothing wrong with crazy, love~"

"Maybe not but there is a problem with psychotic!"

"Psychotic is only a matter of opinion~"

Dr Grahams coughed to clear his throat, well actually it was more to make the bickering blonds "If you want I could refer you both to a marriage councillor?"

"Yes I think marriage counselling is exactly what we need, right Alfie~?"

"NO! And don't call me Alfie, it makes it sound like we actually like each other"

"But I do like you~"

Alfred ignored Oliver "We are brothers."

The psychologist nodded "You also couldn't decide on your brother's name"

"It's Oliver Kirkland"

Oliver pouted "But I'm Artie~!"

"You're Oliver and that's final." Alfred was ready to try and murder Oliver, even if he wouldn't die Alfred would feel a bit better. "Can I answer these questions later…? And can we start with the actual counselling?"

Dr Grayham sighed "Then could you please leave me alone to talk to Oliver? I'll talk to you individually later."

No sooner had America left the room had the giggling and screams started.

* * *

**ZOMG I wrote a fic that wasn't a reader-insert! *le gasp* I'm shoooo happy~~**

**This plot bunny jumped out of an email and at my face *holds up pot bunny with pink-blue swirl eyes and an ahoge up before patting it* I felt obliged to write about it, his name is Oliver F. Jones or Flying Cupcake-Hamburger Bunny~**

**Isn't he adorable and fluffy~? *bunny has rabbit-rape face* Um… maybe not… *emo corner with bunny* why can't you be fluffier and more adorable? I'm changing your name, I'm calling you psycho-rabbit. It shall be your super hero name…**

**I (unfortunately) do not own the picture, if you own it, please tell me and I will credit you**

**Yes, I rp as America… 2p!England (well England's in general) constantly end up being a contributing to cause to any and all RusAme cockblocking that happens on there.**

**This will be part of a series, I don't know how/ when/ where it will end so feel free to send me a private message on how ****_you_**** think it should end. **

**How do you think the next session will go~?**


	2. Chapter 2

The moment Alfred had gotten home that night (and rid of Oliver for the time being), for it was night after having to explain that Oliver was psychotic and therefore not responsible for his own actions. His own actions being starting to cut the psychologist to pieces starting with slicing his chest. Luckily, Alfred heard the screams and broke the door, removing Oliver from the man and calling for an ambulance, he just went to his couch and lied down, too lazy to go to bed and slept. Probably not the smartest idea when your stalker (for Oliver had graduated from 'creepy-acquaintance' to 'stalker-who-I-talk-to-far-too-often') often got into your house god knows how. Alfred reckoned Oliver had a key to his house now. Just as Alfred started to close his eyes a creaking sound rang through his house.  
Alfred, being the timid and superstitious (timid, no, Alfred was cautious, heroes were not timid) person he was, fell off the couch in shock and reached in his jacket for the handgun he always kept, quickly loading it before walking in the direction of the creak, his front door.  
No further did Alfred get until he was eye-to-eye with pink and blue swirls. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT JESUS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"  
The owner of the eyes giggled "Language, Alfie~"  
Alfred swore he just had a heart attack at Oliver's sudden appearance "Answer the question, what the fuck are you doing here? It's..." Alfred checked his watch "8:39" Alfred sighed realising that wasn't a particularly unreasonable time to get visitors, meaning he couldn't accuse Oliver of being rude, the Brit would hate that he'd imagine  
Oliver giggled "In London it's only 4:39~"

Alfred reluctantly put his gun away. "Just so you know I was perfectly within my rights to shoot you just then."  
The Brit simply smiled more "But you didn't because you love me~" and attempted to hug the American.  
Alfred conveniently stepped out of the way causing the shorter male to stumble "I don't love you." Alfred didn't notice the maniac grin on Oliver's face as he turned around to go to his kitchen or the near silent murmur from the Englishman's lips.

_"I'll make you love me... One way or another, you'll love me eventually~"_

Oliver trailed after Alfred like he was a lost puppy, Alfred trying to ignore the other man following him to the best of his ability as he got some left over pizza from when Italy and Romano visited, it got pretty hectic when they couldn't decide over pizza or pasta, eventually making insane amounts of both for the American, of course he didn't complain. Alfred didn't bother reheating it and instead looked for more food  
"If you are hungry I'd happily make you some cupcakes~"  
Alfred had learnt over time some of the things that went into Oliver's cupcakes "No thanks. If I trusted you not to poison me then maybe"  
Oliver giggled, the American still didn't know the _variety_ of things that went into his cupcakes "I wouldn't try to poison you, love~"  
"Because I know what you put in your cupcakes" Alfred muttered quickly and quietly  
"Because I would much prefer the sight of you covered in pretty thin read cuts and bleeding a beautiful shade of red~"  
For once in his life, the United States of America could honestly say he no longer felt hungry...

2p!England noticed the taller nation stop moving "Oh deary me, love. You look terribly pale~ Allow me to make you some tea and cupcakes"  
And that was all it took for Alfred to start moving again... he ran to his bedroom and called the nonly contact on his mobile and his only friend he could trust and would probably (possibly) save him from the crazy deranged Englishman who was currently in his kitchen giggling "TONY HELP! THERE IS A CRAZY DERANGED ENGLISHMAN IN MY FUCKING KITCHEN!"  
Tony heard his American friend screaming into the phone and held it away "The fucking limey is in your kitchen?"  
"Kinda...? It's him from another world..."

"... I'll be there in a few weeks"  
America could only cry slightly "But I need you now!"  
"Send him home"  
"I don't know how to make a portal between dimensions"  
"I meant to the other limey bastards home."  
"That's a good idea!"  
"Whatever, I just want the limey gone by the time I get back..." with that America's lone hope in the galaxy, well America hoped he was still in the galaxy, hung up.

America made another appointment for a psychologist purely out of 2p!England's utter hatred of them. Maybe if the American could continuosly put him through something he hated, Oliver would become less attached and more likely to go to England's house...?

Of course that was never going to work...

* * *

**Short crappy chapter is short crappy chapter, just wanted to make sure everyone knew that the first psychologist wasn't killed and that I am alive next few will be longer! I plan to have more written by the end of this week... If I can get off rp chatrooms for long enough... and finish my school work... ;n;**


End file.
